


Wishing Stars

by Writers_clock



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Angst, Bad Ideas, Based on canon but oops threw it out a window, Battle Couple, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gay Disasters, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post Dark Brotherhood Questline, Retelling of Dawnguard DLC (Elder Scrolls), Romance, Verbal Abuse, Violence, Werewolf, Werewolf Dovahkiin | Dragonborn - Freeform, Werewolf Dragonborn, aka serana being a disaster, almost, lycanthropy, vampire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:22:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27257131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writers_clock/pseuds/Writers_clock
Summary: When Serana wakes in a tomb, she doesn’t expect a sarcastic werewolf who helps her end her father’s tyrannical reign.But life is full of surprises.Updates on Thursdays or Wednesdays depending on how busy I am.
Relationships: Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Serana, Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Serana
Comments: 33
Kudos: 149





	1. The waking

Serana didn’t know who she expected to save her from the crypt, but it certainly wasn’t the dark elf before her. She shook herself and stared. “Who sent you here?” She asked at last.

The dark elf tilted her head. “Were you expecting someone to be sent?”

As Serana’s dizzies state faded, she caught several scents. The first was of blood. Vampire blood. Her eyes fell upon the corpses on the ground - definitely vampires. It took her a second to recognize the second smell. 

Werewolf.

“Someone like me, at least,” Serana responded at last. She had expected a vampire, and it looked like vampires had tried. It was the werewolf who had succeeded. The werewolf donning a uniform she almost recognized.

“A vampire.” The werewolf sized her up. “I was sent by the Dawnguard to find what the vampires were seeking.”

“Well, congrats,” Serana said dryly. “You found me. Now, can you help me get back to my family’s home?”

The werewolf stared for a long time before finally nodding. “I’ll help you get back. I’m Cymbeline. You are?”

“Serana,” she replied with a pang of relief. “I’m headed to an island behind Solitude. Does that city still exist?”

Cymbeline nodded. “I can escort you there.” She held up her hands expectantly. Serana raised her eyebrows, wondering if Cymbeline expected some sort of payment. Instead, her hand lit up, illuminating a path. Cymbeline twisted her hand and it disappeared, the light residing in her hand.

So her new guide was a mage. Interesting. Serana dabbled in necromancy and a bit of destruction magic, but didn’t really see a use for any other kind.

“You’re a mage?” Serana questioned, trying to fill the silence. Anything but the moments before she was stuck in that tomb, which were replaying in her head.

Cymbeline nodded. “I use a bit of magic. Been thinking of applying for a mage’s college in winterhold.”

That Serana recognized. “That was still around back when I was locked away.” She hesitated. “I don’t really know how long I was in there. Who is Skyrim’s high king?”

Cymbeline hesitated as well. “That’s up for debate, actually. The empire supports… well, supported Elsif of Solitud, but many wish for Ulfric Stormcloak.” At Serana’s confused look, she added, “the empire from Cyrodiil.”

“I was gone longer than I thought…” Serana mused. She wasn’t sure what her mother had planned when she sent Serana away, but it certainly wasn’t this.

Cymbeline summoned the pathway again and began to follow it. “I’m assuming you don’t want to talk about whyever you were locked away in there.”

“You assume correctly,” Serana agreed. “No offense, I’m just not sure if I can trust you just yet.”

Cymbeline nodded, and silence fell over them again. As Serana would discover as they fought their way out of the cave, Cymbeline was well-versed in combat, fighting her way out of every situation with ease. Serana squinted as they finally made their way into the sun.

“I don’t know how you stand it,” she complained. 

“The sun?” Cymbeline raised her eyebrows. “Maybe because my name means ‘sun lord’.”

“That’s an interesting name,” Serana noted. “Why’d your parents go with that?”

“They didn’t,” Cymbeline replied shortly. Serana caught the implication. Cymbeline’s parents hadn’t named her; she had most likely named herself. 

She fell silent as Cymbeline whistled. Serana grabbed her dagger as a pitch black horse with red eyes trotted towards her… until it nuzzled Cymbeline.

“This is Shadowmere.” Cymbeline ran her hands through the stallion’s misty mane. “We can ride him towards solitude.” It didn’t take long for her to mount the horse and stick a hand towards Serana.

Serana blinked. It wasn’t that she hadn’t ridden on horseback before… she just didn’t prefer it. Cymbeline waited patiently until Serana placed her hand tentatively in that of her traveling partners. Cymbeline’s hands were warm and rough, calloused from labor and battles.

Serana pulled herself up, her skin tingling wherever they touched. It was less of a romantic tingling, and more of a touch-starved, never-received-hugs-from-her-parents, locked-away-for-who-knows-how-long kind of thing.

If Cymbeline noticed, she said nothing. Instead, she grabbed Serana’s arms and looped them around her waist before easing Shadowmere into a trot.

“Where’d you get a horse like this?” Serana questioned. Shadowmere seemed a bit less horse and a bit more… ghost.

“The previous leader of the Dark Brotherhood,” Cymbeline replied with ease. Serana blinked. That had to be what Cymbeline’s strange uniform was. The strange assassin group Serana had only heard about, never seen.

“You’re an assassin?”

“More or less.” Cymbeline shrugged.

Serana thought that was precisely what an assassin would say, especially one in a group like the Dark Brotherhood. “What happened to the precious leader?” She asked finally.

“Dead,” Cymbeline replied flatly. “Betrayed us, so she got what was coming to her, really. Did get a nice sword out of it though.” Serana’s brows knitted together, but she said nothing. What could one say, really, to their sociopathic tour guide?

They continued to ride in silence until the night began to dip from the sky. Finally. The burn of the sun caused her to ache.

Unfortunately, that was when Cymbeline stopped, dismounting from Shadowmere before nodding. “Hungry?” Serana blinked. Cymbeline pointed to a bandit camp up ahead.

“Oh. Well, yes,” she admitted. Cymbeline nodded, twirling two daggers in her hands. 

“Wait here. They’re all sleeping, so I can kill them quickly.” She gave Serana a wolfish grin, the first the vampire had seen, before disappearing. Nearly literally. Serana could barely make out the outline of the assassin as she made her way towards the bandits.

Cymbeline was back quickly. “Still one left, sleeping. Thought you’d like blood fresh.” Serana was touched by the thoughtfulness.

“Thanks,” she smiled, following Cymbeline into the camp. It was a little pitiful, but it would have to do. Cymbeline respectfully walked away as she approached the sleeping body and fed.

When she had finished, Cymbeline had dragged all of the bodies into a heap and was stealing anything of value. When she caught Serana staring, she shrugged. “I can sell it.”

Her guide was a little unorthodox, it seemed. Despite this, she hadn’t once asked about the Elder Scroll strapped to Serana’s back, nor had she been invasive.

A bit strange, but kind.

Cymbeline caught her staring and offered a small smile. Serana saw her reflection in those black eyes along with the glow of the fire.

Beautiful, perhaps.


	2. Burning hearts (and scarecrows)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serana and Cymbeline fight off a dragon, then participate in Solitude’s burning of King Olaf.

Serana awoke with a jolt to see someone above her, shaking her. She drew her dagger on instinct, but it was knocked from her grasp just as quickly. Her eyes adjusted to the light as she saw Cymbeline, Serana’s dagger in her hand.

“I don’t know how many guides you've had, but typically you don’t stab them,” Cymbeline advised. Serana flushed with embarrassment as she snatched back her dagger.

“I know. Sorry.” Cymbeline simply shrugged at her apology. Serana knew that though she was nonchalant, Cymbeline could’ve been killed. 

She was a skilled assassin, without a doubt.

Cymbeline hesitated once more. “I’m…” she gave Serana a look filled with an unrecognizable emotion. Her mouth opened, then closed. “We’ll have to get going soon.”

Serana simply nodded. Cymbeline had almost finished packing when there was a rumble above them. Cymbeline cursed audibly, and Serana cocked her head.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Cymbeline groaned. Serana’s eyebrows skyrocketed. Cymbeline barely spared her a glance as she pulled out a crossbow. “It’s a dragon.”

“A… dragon,” Serana repeated.

“Unfortunately.”

“Aren’t they all… not real? You know…” Serana dragged a finger across her throat. “Dead?”

“Some jerk named Alduin has been resurrecting them,” Cymbeline explained. Serana almost laughed, but Cymbeline seemed serious. “Whatever, I’ll just kill them.” She summoned a flame atronach and began firing.

Serana blinked, but began sending ice spikes towards the dragon. The dragon snarled, landing a bit away. Cymbeline pulled out two swords and charged.

It took several painstaking moments, but the dragon fell. Though Serana was fairly certain she couldn’t be more shocked than she was just then, she was proven wrong.

Before her eyes, the dragon decayed rapidly. Golden wind wrapped around Cymbeline before being absorbed.

“You’re Dragonborn,” Serana blurted.

“That’s correct. Now come on, we need to get moving.” Cymbeline whistled, calling over Shadowmere. She mounted the horse, then reached her hand towards Serana.

Serana didn’t hesitate to take it, but her mind was swimming. “You’re a soul eater,” she muttered to herself. 

Her parents had told her about the soul eaters, the Dragonborn. Her mother was interested in their power to claim souls, to consume them. Her father held disdain for them: though he held disdain for everyone, so it was nothing new.

If Cymbeline had heard Serana’s comment, she said nothing. Instead, she summoned the magical pathway again, and began to follow.

“How come you use that spell so often?” Serana asked suddenly, surprising even herself. She suspected Cymbeline had heard her, and wanted to change the subject before the Dragonborn read too much into it.

“I have a terrible sense of direction,” Cymbeline admitted. “I have to use it, or I get lost.”

“And here I was, trusting my faithful guide,” Serana smirked. Cymbeline elbowed her, and Serana chuckled. “But… do you think we’re getting close?”

“That up there is Solitude,” Cymbeline told her, pointing. “We can stop there or go directly to your home. Which do you prefer?”

“Why would we stop in Solitude?”

Cymbeline was silent for several moments. Serana was just beginning to wonder if those words somehow offended Cymbeline when she spoke again. “Any number of reasons. Sell all the loot I got, participate in some festival, go shopping.” She suddenly chuckled. “I could finally buy Sofie that present she keeps pestering me about.”

Serana swallowed. “Sofie?” Was the mysterious female Cymbeline’s lover? Maybe a sister? A cousin? Hopefully not the first one? It occurred to her that she shouldn’t care who Sofie was. Serana shook herself; she was just curious.

“My kid.”

“Oh.” Children? Cymbeline was very nice and all, but children? A family? Somehow it didn’t click with the indifferent dark elf before her. Serana almost kicked herself for thinking like that. Cymbeline clearly cared about her daughter and possible spouse. Much more than Serana’s own parents did about her, anyway.

“Yup. Found her in the streets of Riften, decided to give her a home,” Cymbeline explained. “She was down in the slums, selling flowers to make money. She was so damn excited when I showed her Breezehome.”

Serana’s heart tightened. Cymbeline had adopted a kid right off the street. Now that she thought about it, she offered to help Serana right away, never yelled or acted irritated…

Who was she, anyway?

“Your daughter is very lucky to have you,” Serana said quietly.

Cymbeline nudged her. “What’s with the down face? C’mon, we’re stopping in Solitude. Unless you’re hurrying to get back after a couple thousand year long nap?”

Serana huffed, but she was smiling. “I suppose not. And it would be nice to attend a festival.” She was probably going to be stuck in Castle Volkihar for a long while, just like before. What was so wrong about delaying a day to have fun?

“You’ve never been to one?” Cymbeline leaned backwards, resting her head on Serana’s shoulder’s and tilting it to look at her. Serana almost jumped at the contact.

“Well… not the kind you would enjoy,” Serana sighed. “They’re mostly a display of power.” Her father paraded her and her mother around. The three of them were the most powerful vampires in existence, and he never let anyone forget it.

Well, before his obsession that is. After it, it was mostly Serana.

“They sound dreadful.” Cymbeline dug her heels into Shadowmere, speeding them up. “Party it is.”

Serana smiled.

“Do you want one or two rooms?” Cymbeline asked as they walked into the Winking Skeever. Serana blinked, confused. “The party takes place at night, and we should have some place to return to. Get some shuteye, y’know?” She explained.

“Oh.” Serana shrugged. “Either one. We can save money and get one room.” It wouldn’t matter much anyway; Serana rarely slept. Cymbeline seemed indifferent, too. Why wouldn’t she be?

“Alright.” Cymbeline brushed past the drunks and leaned against the counter of the bar. “One room please.” She took the key and led Serana to their room.

“That’s a pretty lady you’ve got there, Cymbeline,” a man hollered. Serana stiffened, resting a hand on her dagger. 

Cymbeline reached for Serana’s hand as she unlocked the door to their room. “Still upset that Vivienne rejected you, Sorex? I can smell the mead on your breath from here.”

“Shut up, you,” Sorex yelled back. Cymbeline pulled Serana inside and locked the door.

“Sorry about him,” Cymbeline apologized with a weak smile. “Nobody can control drunks.”

“It’s fine,” Serana said quietly. She sat on the bed as Cymbeline began to unload her things. She was starting to regret coming here. Cymbeline had made her forget that she usually didn’t get along with others.

“Anyway, we’re going out to have fun!” Serana looked up to see that Cymbeline had gotten changed into fairly simple clothes. “What? Can't exactly walk around in Dark Brotherhood garb. Now c’mon!”

Serana was pulled into the bustling city streets. “Where do you wanna go? There’s a nice jewelry place that has some nice clothes, a bow place, a college of bards…” Cymbeline grinned evilly. “They’ve kicked me out of there for making fun of them. Actually, I think they organized this whole thing.”

“Did they?” Serana raised her brows. It’s not like she hated bards… but she hated bards. Their tales of fake chivalry, their annoyingly loud music, their pompous attitudes… she hated it all. 

“I think they’re gonna set the old king on fire soon,” Cymbeline continued. She pulled Serana through the streets.

“Care for a treat?” A vendor called out. Serana paused. The man smiled warmly. “Take one; they’re free.” She glanced at Cymbeline, who was already filling her rucksack with treats. She chuckled softly, taking a sweet roll.

“Thank you, sir,” Serana told him. He nodded.

“C’mon, they’re gonna light him on fire!” Cymbeline tugged at Serana once more. It was then the Serana realized they’d been holding hands this entire time.

“Why are you so excited about arson?” Serana asked. Vampires were especially weak to fire, making the golden flames her worst enemy.

“Because I’m a pyromaniac, obviously,” Cymbeline said dryly. Serana stared for a few moments before Cymbeline cracked a smile. “Kidding. C’mon, I think they’re reading some dreadful tale.” She pointed at a man reading from a scroll in front of the hoisted scarecrow.

He blushed crimson in embarrassment but kept reading. “I forgot that I made fun of him for being so dramatic,” Cymbeline whispered.

“In your defense, anyone who’s dramatic enough to say that some king was also a dragon deserves it,” Serana whispered back. Cymbeline snorted.

“Quiet down!” Someone shouted in the crowd. Cymbeline flipped them off just as the scarecrow was lit.

“Do you have a habit of making enemies of everyone you meet?” Serana asked quietly, watching Cymbeline’s face. The dark elf had closed her eyes, smiling into the flames.

“Everyone but the pretty ones,” Cymbeline murmured, opening her eyes. Serana couldn’t tell if she was being honest. The wink suggested otherwise…

Unless she was calling Serana pretty?

“Hey, is the fire too hot?” Serana jerked her head towards Cymbeline, who appeared concerned. “I know vampires are delicate to that stuff.” She wasn’t wrong, but the redness of Serana’s face wasn’t from the heat. 

“Uh, yeah. Sorry,” she said hastily.

“Don’t apologize. C’mon, let’s go somewhere quiet. You need to eat the sweet roll, after all.” This time, instead of being dragged along, Serana and Cymbeline walked hand in hand. They sat at a secluded bench, far away from the commotion.

“I don’t think I’ve ever properly thanked you for taking me home,” Serana told Cymbeline before biting into the sweet roll.

“You never did, no,” Cymbeline replied cheekily. Serana smacked her lightly. “Hey! Still haven’t gotten that thank you!”

“Thank you,” Serana said dryly. She paused, swallowing another bite. “May I ask… why are you helping me?”

Cymbeline was quiet for several moments. Serana turned to look at her to find she was staring at the ground.

“You looked so sad,” she said slowly. “I’m the Dragonborn. Dovahkiin. There’s a lot that people expect me to do, ask me to do. I mean, I was told by the Dawnguard to find you and presumably kill you. But you just shrugged and told me I was helping you.”

“A bit rude of me,” Serana admitted.

“But refreshing, I guess.” Cymbeline shook herself. “I don’t know. You just seemed lost, and yet so certain of yourself. I don’t know.” Serana noted the second ‘I don’t know’ and tilted her head. Cymbeline seemed genuinely unsure.

“I’m grateful all the same,” Serana yawned. Cymbeline smiled, stroking Serana’s hair softly.

Serana, the girl who never slept, the girl who couldn’t even trust her parents, fell asleep on Cymbeline’s shoulder.


	3. Unfriendly Waters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cymbeline and Serana at last arrive at the castle. Serana realizes the extent of her father’s irrationality and attempts to escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains verbal abuse from Lord Harkon, Serana’s father, towards her. Reader caution is advised.

“Do you think we’re getting close?” Cymbeline asked. Serana snapped to attention. She had been distracted all morning, and the closer they got to the castle, the worse it was.

“I think so,” she agreed. “The Icewater Jetty should be around here someone.” Though she was leading the way now, hesitation plagued Serana’s every step. The other vampires would definitely smell Cymbeline’s werewolf blood, and Cymbeline would certainly be on edge. And she… didn’t want to say goodbye to her only friend just yet.

Friend. A strange word for her to think, even stranger about someone she barely knew. Regardless, she certainly knew she considered Cymbeline her friend.

“So, what happens when I get you back home?” Cymbeline asked, with… did Serana imagine it? Or was there a trace of sorrow in that voice?

“I’ll… have to check it out. It’s been a couple… thousand years,” she chuckled, wondering if it’d be appropriate for her to say she’d find Cymbeline again. Maybe not. It’d make her sound like a stalker, or a character in a bad romance novel. Before they could decide, she set her sights upon the jetty. Whatever courage she had to say those words faded. “Guess we’re getting in the boat.”

Cymbeline nodded, her eyes forlorn. “Guess we are,” she said softly, getting in. Serana sat beside her, and they began to paddle.

“Listen, I…” Cymbeline hesitated. “I know you… you probably miss your family… or someone…” hesitation again. Serana tilted her head… was Cymbeline nervous about what she was saying?

“Go on.”

“But if you’re ever bored,” Cymbeline continued in a rush, “or you have some free time, you should come visit me. I have a home in Whiterun, Breezehome. You can come visit me and Sofie there. If you’d like.”

Serana couldn’t hide her grin. “That would be lovely.” Cymbeline looked relieved, and Serana almost giggled. She was so cute, being so nervous... not that Serana noticed or anything.

They reached the edge of the castle island rather quickly. Cymbeline gave Serana a long look.

“What?” At Cymbeline’s gesture to the castle, she sighed. “That castle… it’s not really… me. It’s not… an important part of me, that I’m royalty.”

“Gotcha, Princess,” Cymbeline winked. Serana huffed indignantly as Cymbeline continued walking forward. “C’mon!”

“Right…” Serana studied Cymbeline closely. “I… before we go in there…. your friends at the Dawnguard would probably want to kill everything there… but try to show a little more control.”

“I left you alive, didn’t I?” Cymbeline purred, nudging Serana. She narrowed her eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just…” a second, she just needed a second to get her thoughts together. “Just… let me take the lead, okay? My father isn’t exactly an open minded man. He may or maybe not try to kill you.”

“People try to kill me all the time,” Cymbeline snorted.

“That’s not something to brag about,” Serana commented, raising an eyebrow.

“To me it is.” Cymbeline winked and opened the door Serana hadn’t realized they’d reached. “After you, princess.”

Serana resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she stepped inside. 

“What are you doing here?” A man snarled as Serana and Cymbeline entered. “You… Princess?”

“Yes, Vingalmo.” Serana took a threatening step towards him. “I’m expected, I see.”

“Of… of course,” Vingalmo apologized, shuffling. “I will take care of this immediately.” He turned and faced a brightly lit dining room. “Lady Serana has returned!”

Silence, then whispers. Serana wasn’t surprised. She nodded at Cymbeline and walked down the stairs. Despite the smell of rotting flesh and human corpses, Cymbeline didn’t so much as curl her nose.

“My long lost daughter returns at last,” Harkon said, grinned. Serana almost winced as he said his next words. “I trust you have my Elder Scroll?”

Cymbeline tensed. Serana glanced over at the werewolf before speaking. “After all these years, that’s what you want to know? Yes, I have the scroll.”

“Of course I was worried.” Harkon’s voice dripped with honey. “Must I really say so? If only your bitch of a mother were here… she could watch this with her head on a stake…” Harkon trailed off with a faint chuckle before getting back on track. “And who might this be?”

“This is the one who saved me,” Serana introduced. She met Cymbeline’s eyes with a silent plea.

“I am forever grateful,” Harkon said, his words dripping with thinly veiled malcontent. “Tell me, who are you?”

Cymbeline tilted her head. “I am Cymbeline, the leader of the Dark Brotherhood.” A murmur immediately stirred up among the vampires. The Princess, rescued by an assassin? “Though it’s quite rude for Harkon, king of the vampires, to not introduce himself to the savior of his long lost princess.” The court grew silent. Serana couldn’t tell if she wanted to slap or hug Cymbeline.

“Got some fire, does she,” Harkon spoke quietly. “For centuries, the vampires have lived here away from the cares of the world in peace… until my traitorous wife stole away that which I value most…”

“The princess?” Cymbeline questioned.

Harkon smiled through gritted teeth. “For finding my daughter, you deserve a reward. I offer you my blood. You can become a vampire, live as a lion among sheep. Refuse, and I will spare you this once before you become prey once more.”

Serana held her breath, studying Cymbeline’s face. She wouldn’t want… she didn’t know what she wanted, other than to get Cymbeline as far away from her father as possible.

Luckily for her, Cymbeline laughed, loudly. The court muttered once more until it stopped just as quickly as it had started. Cymbeline stalked forward, and Serana finally saw it. The terrifying assassin that lurked just beneath the surface. The dangerous werewolf she had brought into the vampire den. “You know what, Harkon,” Cymbeline snarled. “I may have saved your daughter, but that doesn’t mean I hold any fondness for you.” She stood at her full height, towering over Harkon. “It was so nice of you to invite me to your little cult, but I’m afraid I must be going.” She raised her hand and winked. With a snap, she disappeared.

Harkon flung a dagger towards where the werewolf once stood. It flew into the wall behind them. He paused to smell the air before judging that Cymbeline was gone. “As you were,” he growled.

Serana, however, knew Cymbeline wasn’t gone. The invisible assassin pressed a note into her palm, leaned forward, and whispered, “Catch you later, princess.”

Harkon pulled her aside when everything had calmed. “I hope that your little fiasco is made up for by the scroll,” he hissed. “Give it to me.”

Serana paused. Harkon didn’t ask if she was okay. He didn’t ask why she went away. He asked for the scroll, and suddenly everything fell into place.

“You… do you care about me?” Harkon narrowed his eyes in anger. “Did you ever care about mother?” She knew then she crossed a line, but she didn’t care.

“Your mother,” Harkon growled, “was paranoid and weak. She couldn’t see the power we could have… can still have.” He reached for Serana gently, his hand on the side of her cheek. “I know you can see it,” he added softly. “The prophecy. We can still achieve it. Now that I have the scroll…”

Serana shoved his hand away. “Stop it! Is this all you care about?”

Harkon’s face grew angry once more. “You insolent child! You know nothing of the world, of the hardships I’ve had to face! You only care for yourself!”

Serana didn’t move. Didn’t think. Didn’t feel. Didn’t do much of anything, really.

But maybe Cymbeline had the right idea.

“The scroll, Serana,” Harkon demanded, reaching his hand out.

Serana stared at this hand. “I’m sorry, father,” she whispered, then summoned her vampiric abilities and turned invisible.

“Serana!” Harkon screamed. He shoved his desk over. “You’re useless! Selfish and useless! You bitch! Give me my scroll!”

Serana covered her mouth so she wouldn’t yelp. She had to get out of here fast, before Harkon got to his sense and ordered them to close the castle doors. She fled the room, heading for the door.

She was nearly upon it when Harkon thundered, “Lock the doors! Lady Serana is a traitor!”

She flung the door open before Vingalmo could do as told, and sprinted down the cobblestone. She could almost taste the freedom, the warm embrace of Cymbeline-

“After her!” Vingalmo yelled. She turned to see that her invisibility had worn off, and the vampires were storming towards her. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” she muttered. All she had to do was get to the boat, then she could get back to the mainland, where she could lose them.

The boat was gone. Serana cursed internally; of course it was. Cymbeline had taken it. She paused at the shore, glancing between the angry vampires and the crashing waves.

“You don’t battle the waves,” she recalled her mother saying. “The tide is more powerful than even your father.” Perhaps this was true. No; she knew it was true. But it was her only choice.

Serana dove headfirst into the waves.

It was shockingly cold, the kind of cold that freezes your limbs and eats at your insides. As she began to swim, the waves battered her as if she were a toy mouse and it were a very large, very dangerous cat.

A familiar sizzle sounded out behind her. They were attacking. Serana could scarcely move from the freezing temperature, but she knew what she would have to do. She took a deep breath and dove beneath the waves.

Her lungs burned. The water felt incredibly dense, so dense she couldn’t possibly move her limbs. But somehow she did. It was several moments before she resurfaced for a breath of air-

-but the waves crashed over her, and she inhaled water. Serana coughed, struggling to rise above the waves. There was no way she would survive this. No way she could escape this freezing hell.

She paddled forward, finally inhaling air. The coldness of it stung her lungs, but she forced herself to continue moving. To continue struggling. Another crash of waves, another shove under the surface, another fight to the top. It continued like some sort of sick game. The gods were torturing her. Happiness, for Serana? Never an option.

The waves eventually crashed her into the beach. She gasped in pain as a stone cut into her arm. She had to keep going. She had to get to Cymbeline.

Cymbeline, who had a horse.

Serana opened her pocket to the note Cymbeline had left her. It was soaked, but not ruined. And it was a map to whiterun.

She smiled sadly. “I’m coming,” Serana whispered, dragging herself to her feet. Hypothermia. She was going to get hypothermia soon.

“I’m coming, Cymbeline,” she repeated, louder now, stumbling off the shore. “I’m… coming…”

“Serana?” Serana whirled around to find Cymbeline, the stench of blood clinging to her. “Vonmindoraan… Serana, are you okay?”

Serana took a careful step closer. “Cymbeline?” Her head swam in relief, making her legs shake. “You’re here.”

The last thing she saw before collapsing was Cymbeline sprinting towards her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m only a little bit sorry for the cliffhanger.


	4. Incomprehensible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cymbeline takes care of Serana as she recovers from hypothermia. But Serana has some questions; they both do.

Serana was dreaming. She had to be. How else would she wake up, her clothes hanging by the fire, wrapped in a cloak she knew to be Cymbeline’s, and several deerskins?

She opened her mouth, but instead of words, she sneezed. Cymbeline jumped at the sudden noise, but her eyes softened as she saw Serana. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.” She hesitated. “I made some soup, but you’re welcome to have some of my blood as well. Just don’t… kill me.”

Serana blinked. Questions danced on her tongue, but she stayed silent. Cymbeline was staring into the fire, stirring a pot every now and then.

“Where?” Serana’s throat was dry. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Where… are we?”

“We’re in a fort near to the shore. I had stopped by here because I promised the Greymanes’ I’d get their son back, who was imprisoned here, and then I heard you…” she trailed off. “Just because you’re frost-resistant doesn’t mean you can… jump into freezing cold water!”

Serana winced. “Sorry,” she muttered. Cymbeline sighed, stroking hair out of Serana’s face. Serana leaned into the touch, closing her eyes. 

Cymbeline cleared her throat. “You can… have some of my blood if you want.” She didn’t look at Serana as she said this, as if embarrassed. “I know vampires heal if they have blood. And… you’re not in great shape. And sorry I had to take your clothes off, but you were getting hypothermia. And I don’t know necrotic healing, so I didn’t know what to do-”

“Cymbeline,” Serana interrupted. Cymbeline looked up, her eyes mimicking a deer in headlights. “Thank you.” She took Cymbeline’s offered wrist carefully, her heart pounding.

Though werewolf blood was typically disgusting, Cymbeline’s had the blood of dragons as well, making it delicious. Serana stopped herself from taking more than just enough, and gave Cymbeline back her arm. “Thanks,” she muttered again.

Cymbeline moved to bandage her arm, and Serana pulled the blankets over her closer. “I… uhm, your clothes have dried,” Cymbeline said, grabbing Serana’s armor. “You can… get changed.”

“Yeah.” Cymbeline set the clothes on the bed and turned away. Serana got changed as quickly as possible before giving Cymbeline the okay to turn around.

“I’m… assuming you have questions,” Serana muttered. Louder, she added, “I have some too.”

“I know…” Cymbeline sat cross-legged on the floor across from Serana. “How about this? You ask me a question, and then I’ll ask you one.”

“Sounds good.” Serana sat up, draping her blankets over her shoulders. “How did you know who my father was?”

“Get into it all at once, huh,” Cymbeline whistled. “I… didn’t exactly. I wanted him to think I knew more than I let on… I mostly just heard his name from other members of the court.” She tapped her ears. “Heightened werewolf senses. And you said you were royalty, so I assumed.” Serana narrowed her eyes. Cymbeline refused to look at her.

“You know more than you’re letting on,” Serana accused.

“That’s for another question,” Cymbeline pointed out. “Now: why did you dive into the water?”

Serana sighed. “I refused to give my father the scroll. He grew enraged and ordered everyone to attack me. I escaped the castle, and had to get to shore somehow.” Serana stared at her shaking hands.

Cymbeline moved to lean against the wall next to the bed, and intertwined their fingers. Serana smiled, wondering if Cymbeline could see her blushing face in this dim light. 

“Okay.” Serana took a steadying breath. “How else do you know my father?”

Cymbeline paused for a long moment. “I’m… a worshipper, of sorts, to Molag Bal. He’s the daedric lord who granted your family vampire powers, yes?” She waited until Serana nodded before continuing. “I went into an abandoned house, killed a Vigilant of Stendarr, talked to Molag Bal, and killed a priest. He offered me a weapon; I told him I wanted information.

“I asked him about the Elder Scrolls. He told me that I would have to find one of his… followers. Harkon, he said, was looking for Elder Scrolls, and if I found him, I would find the scrolls.” Cymbeline stared at her hands. “I need… to stop Alduin. And I can’t do that without a scroll.” She took a deep breath before smiling. “Now. What is the whole deal with that scroll?”

Serana swallowed before speaking. “My father… discovered a prophecy. He became obsessed, and lost himself in it. There was some line… that vampires would no longer need to fear the sun. He latched onto that, and ignored everyone else in favor of controlling the sun, and in turn, the world.” She clenched her hands, her nails digging into her palm. “My mother and I didn’t feel like challenging humanity to a war, so she sealed me away with the scroll.”

Cymbeline leaned her head against the bed. “That… that really sucks. I’m sorry.”

“Anyway.” Serana cleared her throat, then paused. What would she ask? Rather, what was the best way to ask why Cymbeline acted like that in the castle. “Why did you… basically threaten all the vampires?”

“Have I never mentioned I’m impulsive and cocky?” Cymbeline asked wryly. “I hated how they were looking at you,” she admitted after a moment. “A prize. A scroll. Inhuman - which technically…” she shook herself. “I’m… I got nothing to say, really.” She gazed into the fireplace, her eyes alight. “I guess I wanted your father to feel the fear I saw in your eyes as we walked in. I’m sorry if that caused him to lash out at you.”

“He… certainly did. But I also sealed myself in a tomb for a couple thousand years, so who’s to say what he’s more pissed about,” Serana joked. A ghost of a smile passed Cymbeline’s face.

“Okay… my turn. What do we do now?” Cymbeline began to slowly stroke the top of Serana’s hand with her thumb. Serana almost shivered from the casual touch. Her parents had never been so affectionate, neither had any of Serana’s “friends”. Cymbeline just seemed… so simple with her actions, and yet Serana felt the complexity of its meaning would talk days to comprehend.

“I suppose… find a Moth Priest to translate the Scroll?” she suggested hesitantly. “Find out what this whole prophecy thing is. Though no one would know where to find one…”

“I have two ideas,” Cymbeline said slowly. “One: we go directly to the College of Winterhold and ask them about a Moth Priest. They seem to know a lot of random facts. And two… we go to the Dawnguard.”

“The vampire hunters,” Serana’s corrected.

“Well, yes,” Cymbeline admitted. “But I do technically… work for them. And they could help us, I don’t know, fight a vampire army threatening to take over the world?” She noticed Serana’s hesitancy and backtracked. “We don’t have to go there right away if you’re not comfortable! If we’re really gonna… do this, we should go to them for help at some point… and to let them know I didn’t ditch them.”

“It’s reasonable,” Serana agreed. “How about we check out the College of Winterhold first? It is quite the journey.” Halfway across the country - literally.

“Right. Yeah,” Cymbeline decided. “We can head to the college, find what we find, then we’re going to Whiterun.” Serana didn’t question this, just smiled. She hadn’t expected Cymbeline to be there when she had swam across. She hadn’t expected to be saved.

“By the way,” Serana said with a start, “What was that you muttered yesterday? It didn’t sound… human.”

Cymbeline stared for several seconds before realization dawned on her face. “Oh! It was, uhm, draconic. Dragon. Vonmindoraan, right?” Serana nodded, albeit a bit overwhelmed. Cymbeline spoke dragon. She knew that Cymbeline was the Dragonborn, but somehow had fully comprehended it. “It means ‘I don’t understand’, or ‘incomprehension’,” Cymbeline explained.

“Oh.” Serana let the realization sink in. “What’s your favorite dragon phrase?”

“My favorite?” Cymbeline turned thoughtful. “Probably ‘tiid bo amativ’. It means ‘time flows onwards’.”

“T...tiid bo amativ?” Serana copied Cymbeline’s thoughtful expression. “I like it.”

Cymbeline’s smile was unbearably sweet. “I knew you would.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and let me know what you think!


	5. The Importance of Being Known

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serana wonders why Cymbeline has so many enemies. They arrive at Winterhold.

Serana was floating.

She was in a pool of clear water, up to her hips. The sun shined down on her, but didn’t burn. The waves lapped at her stomach, her chest, her chin-

She was sinking, she was floating, she was drowning. There wasn’t a difference anymore. Serana struggled against the waves and gasped for breath. In the distance, she hears screaming. Then suddenly, everything went black. She could not hear. She could not see. She could not-

The water was cold, the water was unfeeling, her father-

“Serana, you’re scaring me,” Cymbeline’s voice rang. “Serana. Serana!”

“Cymbeline?”

“Rise and shine, beautiful,” Cymbeline chuckled, a relieved grin on her face. She grabbed her bags, and Serana recalled that they had spent the night in the Winking Skeever once more. “Love to chat more, but we have to go.”

“Where?” Serana sat up in bed, letting Cymbeline pull her to her feet. “Why… it’s still dark outside.” She inhaled sharply at the smell of blood on Cymbeline’s clothes. “What happened.”

“Everything’s fine,” Cymbeline promised. “I’m an assassin, remember?” She pulled Serana down the stairs and out the door. “It’s almost daybreak, I completed one of my jobs, we should get moving-”

“Stop,” Serana said firmly, tightening her grip on Cymbeline’s hand. “What’s wrong? Don’t lie to me,” she warned as she noted the hesitation. “I know that look in your eyes.”

“You’re quite perceptive, and I will tell you everything, but we really must be going.” Cymbeline tugged at Serana’s hand once more, and Serana allowed herself to be dragged away.

They exited Solitude and mounted Shadowmere rather quickly. Cymbeline wasted no time in urging her horse into a gallop. They thundered over the pavement as Cymbeline casted a light over them. After about five minutes, she seemed satisfied and slowed them to a trot.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Serana demanded. From her strange dream to Cymbeline’s behavior, she was on edge.

“I kinda… pissed off some very powerful people,” Cymbeline admitted. “Their fort is near Solitude, the one that I overtook while you were asleep. So is their secret fort which I also took over.” 

Serana was silent. What was there to say? She wasn’t mad or anything. A little caught off guard, but not mad. She wasn’t that petty. “Simply because I don’t want to get caught off guard… how many enemies have you made that would send people after you, or the both of us?”

“Hmmm….” Cymbeline squinted, her face becoming adorably scrunched. “A lot? I’m kind of an ass, not gonna lie to you.”

Serana raised her brows. “This doesn’t surprise me.”

“Yeow. You could’ve at least pretended to defend me,” Cymbeline joked, turning around to face Serana. “I see how it is.” As soon as the words left her mouth, her eyes widened. She was off of the horse in moments, flipping into the air. 

Serana grabbed the reigns, unsure of what to do. She couldn’t just jump, but she didn’t know how to stop a horse either. What could she do? The sounds of swords clashing and Cymbeline grunting spurred her to act.

Turn into bats and fly off the horse, apparently, was the only idea she had. Serana wasn’t a fan of transforming into a master vampire, but it was the quickest solution. 

The transformation wasn’t pretty. Bats surrounded her as her skin turned grey and bony wings burst from her back. Her face grew long, and her fangs reached down to her chin. It was quicker to transform into bats, flying back toward where Cymbeline was fighting.

Cymbeline’s back was pressed against the cliff as she held up two swords against a few elven soldiers. Beside her was some sort of spectral assassin, fighting several thugs, and a flame atronach was the second summoned creature, as it circled them throwing fireballs.

Serana gritted her teeth and attacked. Red orbs of light were released through one hand while the other shot ice spikes. It pierced through the elves’s armor, and they fell one by one. Cymbeline cut the last thug down before beginning to search them.

“Hired thugs?” Serana guessed, shifting back to human form. 

“Maybe?” Cymbeline winced, tucking a note into her pocket. “They’re all dead now, so…” She shook herself and whistled, calling Shadowmere over.

Serana sighed. “I’m not judging, but… why do you have so many enemies?” Cymbeline was genuinely kind to her… wasn’t it genuine kindness? She seemed to be involved in many incidents, whether she was helping others or carrying out the orders of a daedric lord.

“C’mon Serana, I’m not a swell person.” Cymbeline pulled herself onto Shadowmere, extending a hand. Serana took it, helping herself up behind Cymbeline. “I mean, I’m the leader of a group of assassins. You didn’t expect me to be good, did you?”

Good. It was such a strange word. Serana had never been a good person. She was tainted. Her past was littered with blood and lies and a crushing loneliness that drowned everything else out. Somehow she had grown to almost idolized Cymbeline, or at least trust her. Was that this feeling, in her chest? She didn’t expect Cymbeline to be good. She… she didn’t know what she expected.

“No.” Serana’s answer was short. Cymbeline raised her brows, but urged Shadowmere into a trot. Neither of them said a word until the sun broke over the horizon, illuminating them in golden light.

“I’m not… I don’t…” Cymbeline shook her head. “Gods, Serana, I don’t know. You’re… you’re important, okay? I don’t…” she trailed off.

“I… I know,” Serana lied. She had no idea what Cymbeline was trying to say. “It’s okay.”

They both fell silent once more. Neither of them spoke until they arrived at Winterhold, only to be told to seek some strange man who had studied Elder Scrolls out.

“Fucker,” Cymbeline muttered as soon as they left the library. Serana laughed. “What?”

“Nothing.” She grinned, nudging Cymbeline lightly. All in all, she was glad the tension from earlier had disappeared. “Is it off to Whiterun, then? To see your daughter?”

Cymbeline mirrored Serana’s expression. “You know it. She’ll be so excited to meet you, I just know it. She never meets anyone from outside Whiterun, and told me all the adults are boring.”

Serana blinked. Sofie was going to be introduced to her? Cymbeline grabbed her hand and tugged her out of the school, gushing about her daughter. 

Serana smiled at Cymbeline’s ramble. She was… Cymbeline was good. She was amazing. She was… important. To Serana.

Maybe she did understand what Cymbeline had told her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating yesterday! I updated today instead to make up for it. Updates should resume as normal next week!


	6. Glass hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serana finally meets Cymbeline’s daughter, Sofie, as they arrive at Whiterun.

They were almost at Whiterun. They had to be, given how excited Cymbeline looked. The looming walls they were approaching was a pretty dead giveaway, too.

“The guards might be wary of letting you in,” Cymbeline warned as she handed Shadowmere to a stable boy. “Just let me do the talking.”

They were, in fact, wary of Serana, but Cymbeline was surprisingly charming. Charming to Serana, at least. When it was evident they were still suspicious, Cymbeline sighed. “Daniels, I know you’re cheating on your wife with Craigshold, and Rennit I know you’re a skooma addict. I’ll tell the whole town if you don’t mind your business.”

Needless to say, that worked. Cymbeline’s seriousness melted as they finally entered through the gates. “It’s pretty early morning, so she’s probably asleep,” Cymbeline explained as she led Serana through town. “Sofie, I mean. C’mon, she’ll be thrilled to meet you!”

Serana had never… gotten children. They were messy, they were loud, they seemed to hate her. But for Cymbeline, she’d at least try. 

Cymbeline unlocked her door. At the sound of jingling keys, a dog began to bark from inside the house. By the time Serana and Cymbeline had entered, Sofie was sprinting towards them, still rubbing her eyes.

“Mama! You’re home!” Sofie squealed. Cymbeline chuckled, swinging Sofie in the air before setting her back down. “And you brought a friend!”

“Hi,” Serana greeted, waving. 

“Did you get me anything?” Sofie turned her begging eyes back to her mother.

“I did!” Cymbeline said proudly, holding up her bag. She dumped out all of the treats she’d gotten from the festival, several dresses and tunics, two dolls, a wooden sword, and an elven dagger. “Don’t eat it all at once,” she warned as Sofie squealed, biting into a sweet roll.

“I had just cleaned that,” someone sighed. Serana’s head shot up to see a Nord woman adorned in armor. A wife, perhaps? “It’s an honor to see you again, my Thane,” she added, louder.

“Sorry, Lydia.” Cymbeline didn’t see too worried about it, and grabbed Serana’s hand. “That’s my housecarl, Lydia. She lives in my house for free, gets paid by the Jarl to do work for me, and helps take care of Sofie when I’m gone.”

Serana’s didn’t know why she felt relieved that Lydia was a housecarl and nothing more. She immediately shoved those feelings aside, following Cymbeline to her room. “It’s a very nice place,” she complimented. “Lively, for sure.” The dog she heard earlier was staring directly at her.

“Vigilance, be nice,” Cymbeline warned. The dog wagged his tail. “I guess it’s a bit loud now, but most of the time Sofie’s outside playing and Lydia’s doing work for the Jarl. I’m mostly just… alone.” She paused for a moment, clutching her chest, but then began to unpack materials into a chest. Serana recognized that look. She often saw it in the mirror.

“I have to admit, I didn’t think your house would be this… homely,” Serana said after a moment. She sat on the bed, eyeing Cymbeline, who was still unloading assorted junk into a chest. “It’s a little… surprising.”

“What, did you think I lived in a cave?” When Serana didn’t answer, Cymbeline laughed. “I kind of did before I bought this place. Slept in caves and hideouts and anywhere that had a bed. Well, then the Dawnstar sanctuary.”

“Dawnstar sanctuary? Oh, is that where the Dark Brotherhood headquarters are?” Serana asked. Cymbeline nodded.

“Anyway, I’m done unloading, so I gotta go sell this stuff.” Cymbeline heaved a giant bag over her shoulder. “Be right back!”

She was out the door before Serana could protest.

Serana sat cautiously at a table in the corner of the house. Lydia had apparently finished cleaning and was nowhere to be seen, but Sofie could jump out at her.

Serana scolded herself for being scared of talking to a child. Then again, it wasn’t just any child. It was Cymbeline’s kid. Why did the thought make her so uneasy?

“Hi!” Serana almost jumped as Sofie skipped towards her from a back room. “What’s your name?”

“I’m… Serana,” she replied stiffly.

“Cool! I’m Sofie! Our names both begin with S’s!” Sofie grinned before holding up a fox. “This is Knock Knock!”

“Knock Knock?” Serana questioned, confused. Was that the fox’s name, or was it some kind of joke?

“Who’s there?” Sofie jumped in place, giggling. Knock Knock did not look happy.

“Uhm…” Serana racked her brain. Was this a joke of some sort? Was there something she was supposed to be saying? She couldn’t just say nothing, Sofie was expecting an answer. “Me?” She chuckled nervously.

“Me who?” Sofie plopped Knock Knock on the ground and clapped her hands together once.

“Me… who?”

“Me who who!”

Serana swallowed, her throat dry. “Me who who who?” Was Sofie going to cry? Scream? Children were unpredictable and almost scarier than hellhounds.

“I get it! You’re an owl! Hoo, hoo!” Sofie grabbed Serana’s hand and began to pull her out of the chair. “Come on Miss Serana! I have something I wanna show you!”

Serana stood and dutifully followed Sofie back to what appeared to be a children’s room. Sofie was rooting through a chest until she pulled out a glass dagger. “I don’t need this one anymore, so you can have it! Mama says giving people gifts is how you get them to like you!” Sofie hopped up and down. “Are you good at sword fighting Miss Serana? Are ya? Are ya?”

“I… suppose,” Serana admitted. “I prefer using magic.” Sofie’s eyes went wide. “Do you want to see?” At Sofie’s frantic nods, she summoned an ice spike in her hand, then held it out. “Careful, it’s cold,” she warned as Sofie reached out to touch it, then immediately squealed.

“That’s so cool!” Serana smiled, a feeling of warmth spreading from her chest.

“Teaching my daughter magic, Serana?” Cymbeline questioned. Serana jumped, turning to see Cymbeline lounging in the doorway. 

“No, uh-” Serana began, but Sofie cut her off in a rush of words.

“She is! Miss Serana’s gonna teach me how to be a mage! I’m gonna get really tough!” Sofie hopped up and down until Cymbeline scooped her up.

“You’ll be the best mage of them all. Now go play,” Cymbeline urged. Sofie scurried from the house, leaving the two of them alone.

“I’m glad you and Sofie get along,” Cymbeline said softly as she nodded at the dagger in Serana’s palm. “I didn’t think you had a lot of experience with kids.”

“I don’t,” Serana admitted. “But she seemed really interested in magic, and that’s something I’ve always been able to do, so…” she trailed off as she saw Cymbeline’s expression. It held an emotion Serana didn’t recognize, but seemed to be a good one. “What?”

“Nothing,” Cymbeline waved her off, grabbing Serana’s hand. “I’m just really glad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was fun to write, I miss writing so much fluff! Thank you for reading, and let me know what you think!


	7. Moonlit Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serana wakes up on the full moon and runs outside to find Cymbeline, worried.

Serana opened her eyes to see Cymbeline’s dog, Vigilance, pawing at her. He licked her face, causing her to scrunch her nose. “Bel, get your dog,” she groaned to herself, reaching to wake Cymbeline.

The bed next to her was empty.

Serana sat up in bed, her eyes adjusting to the dim light as her vampiric sight kicked in. They had stayed at Cymbeline’s house and promised to leave in the morning, but the night was still young and Cymbeline was nowhere to be seen.

Serana changed out of the nightclothes she had borrowed from Cymbeline into her armor, slowly descending down the stairs.

“Serana.” She nearly jumped out of her skin as she heard Lydia’s voice. Serana slowly turned, her fingers wrapping around the glass dagger instinctively.

Lydia narrowed her eyes at that, but her voice was even. “It's the full moon.”

That…. would make sense. Serana didn’t know a lot about werewolves, but knew for sure that they were forced to transform during the full moon. Still, something deep inside told her to investigate.

“I know,” Serana said softly, releasing her grip on the blade. Lydia studied her face for a few more moments, then nodded and returned to her room.

Serana shoved thoughts of how close Cymbeline and Lydia were out of her head as she left Breezehome. She didn’t have time to focus on that. Something was wrong. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but she did

As she stepped outside the Whiterun gates, she inhaled deeply. Werewolf blood - a lot of it. Her eyes went wide at what it meant.

Serana began to run.

She didn’t pause to think, to consider the possibilities. If Cymbeline was hurt, she had to spring into action. That’s all that mattered.

She quickly arrived at the edge of a forest and crouched, readying her magic. Up ahead, through the trees, in a small clearing…

Three werewolves… four? Most of them were defending an injured one in the center, and had just finished killing the last of them men attacking them.

Serana shoved down her instincts to fight and watched them from the dark.

“You.” The words came out a growl as the largest of the werewolves stepped toward the injured one. “You’re a werewolf, too. But not one of ours.”

The injured - who Serana recognized to be Cymbeline - barked out a laugh. “State the obvious, why don’t you. Thanks for saving my hide.” Serana almost groaned at the puns.

“You almost got us all killed,” the largest werewolf growled again, advancing forward. Serana readied her magic in case they attacked.

“My bad,” Cymbeline grinned toothily and stood. Now that she was no longer on the ground it was clear she was the largest of all the werewolves, towering over Serana. “These men simply attacked me as I was going about my business.” Serana studied the clearing a little more, and began counting the bodies. There were twelve total. “Now, Aela, I really must be going.”

The werewolves said nothing as Cymbeline limped away. Aela began to step towards, but was held back by another wolf.

Serana trailed after Cymbeline a while longer, always keeping just out of reach. They had soon reached a clear pool of water, and Cymbeline began to drink before speaking aloud. “I know you’re there.”

Serana emerged from the darkness. Cymbeline turned to face her, towering above Serana enough to block out the moon. “Why are you here?”

“I felt like something was wrong,” Serana said softly. Cymbeline snorted, and sat on the ground. She sat like a dog who couldn’t quite sit properly and instead tried to mimic a person. 

“I’m just. Being a werewolf, you know,” Cymbeline shrugged. “Didn’t expect to run into the other werewolves at Whiterun. They avoid me, for the most power. Don’t like that I have their power.”

“You’re basically a dangerous predator with no survival instincts,” Serana sighed, beginning to heal Cymbeline’s wounds. “Just because you’re a werewolf doesn’t mean you can run around and do whatever you want.”

“Hey! They attacked me!” Cymbeline’s deep voice shook the trees as she started to laugh. “Am I being scolded right now?” Serana’s cheeks went red. “I am!” Cymbeline howled. 

“Hush!” Serana clamped Cymbeline’s mouth shut. “You’re gonna attract more attention!” She removed her hands and continued healing. Cymbeline’s grin never left her face.

Perhaps many would be uneasy at the thought of a werewolf, especially vampires. But Serana felt at ease. She finished healing the wounds and elbowed Cymbeline. “I was worried! You hadn’t told me it was the full moon, then I felt like something was wrong, and then I smelled a bunch of blood, but it turns out you’re just being an idiot!”

Cymbeline stood back to her full height, and leaned over Serana. “An idiot, huh?”

Serana huffed. “You don’t intimidate me. And yes, an idiot. I was… worried.”

Cymbeline’s ears pulled back. “Sorry. I promise I won’t go and get myself killed. Happy?”

Serana glared at Cymbeline’s wagging tail. “Fine.” The wolf in question laughed again, and dropped onto all fours.

“C’mon. Let’s run around for a bit, it’ll be fun!” She nodded at her back. Serana stared for several moments before climbing on.

“Awoooo-hooooo!” Cymbeline cheered, waiting until Serana was ready to bolt into the forest. Serana dug her hands into Cymbeline’s fur, but her fear was slowly replaced with excitement.

Serana trusted Cymbeline, she realized. Wholeheartedly. She felt safe, even. Despite her reservations in the beginning, she and Cymbeline had only gotten closer.

Cymbeline slowed for a bit. “You alright back there?” She asked.

“I’ll probably have a couple bruises tomorrow,” Serana admitted. “But this is fun!” Cymbeline didn’t say anything, just continued staring and smiling. “Yes?”

“Nothing,” Cymbeline promised, and continued to run more.

When they finally returned, late into the night, Cymbeline curled into bed and yawned. “That was so fun,” she murmured, clutching Serana’s arm.

Serana smiled at Cymbeline, brushing a stray hair out of her face. “It was.”

Her heart felt… strange. And when she would fall asleep, she would dream of running in moonlit fields with dogs (humanoid or not) and children.

A life she found a small part herself wanting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More fluff! Don’t worry, we’ll have some more plot and angst soon, but for now enjoy it! Thanks for reading and let me know what you think!


	8. Bloody Bridges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serana finds bodies of vampires and a human at Dragonbridge, then she and Cymbeline head out to free the dragon priest.

The journey to Dragonbridge was faster than expected. That was where they were meant to find the Moth Priest to read the scroll, so of course they rushed. They arrived late afternoon. Serana lurked in the dark as her friendlier compatriart spoke with some of the locals.

Serana watched with a tad of… something. Emotions this strong were new to her. Jealousy, at the way Cymbeline so easily spoke with the locals? Perhaps it was loneliness that she was hiding in the dark.

It was something, even if she didn’t understand it.

As she leaned against the bridge, she caught a strange smell. Blood? There was vampire blood and human blood, possibly a fight. Serana glanced back at the village. “It’ll be fine, I’ll be right back,” she muttered softly, quickly scribbling a message on a notepad and sticking it on top of Shadowmere. 

She walked down towards the smell, her nerves on edge. She hasn’t fed since she had gotten hypothermia, leaving her vampiric powers extremely strong but her physical form weak in the sun. Still, she crept slowly towards the scent. She arrived relatively quickly to the bodies, and confirmed there were no living among them.

She quickly checked the bodies. It appeared the vampires attacked a carriage driver, along with someone who could only be the moth priest, and was holding them prisoner nearby. They were led by… Malkus, a member of her father’s court.

Serana licked her teeth. She could so easily go there now, take Malkus out, free the moth priest… and Cymbeline wouldn’t have to fight or be in danger.

Serana tightened her fist. What was she thinking? She and Cymbeline were a team. Still, it’d be so easy to just slit Malkus’s throat for the way her father demanded for her to be hunted like a dog, to take her revenge. No, she would have to trust Cymbeline.

Serana whirled around, hearing something. Just as she did, Cymbeline grabbed her cloak and pulled their faces close. “Serana, what happened.” Not a question. A command.

“I smelled blood. Vampire and human,” Serana explained, forcing her heart to slow. Cymbeline, though she had been nothing but kind, was still intimidating. That must’ve been why her heart was racing, why she couldn’t think properly. “I went to check it out.”

Cymbeline sighed, and released Serana. “Sorry. I just got nervous that you ran off without me… a letter that says ‘smelled blood, be back later’, really?” She sheepishly rubbed the back of her neck, and stepped back. It was then that Serana realized how close they were.

“Were you… worried?” Serana asked. Cymbeline’s cheek flushed a dark purple. Serana smiled, dropping it, but she was giddy.

“Come on. A vampire named Malkus kidnapped the Dragon Priest, and is holding him hostage nearby. I think I know where, but we should move out now,” Serana told Cymbeline. Cymbeline nodded distractedly, and began walking.

Serana glanced at Shadowmere behind them and shrugged before following. It was nearly a minute until Cymbeline said, “I left the horse didn’t I.”

“You sure did.”

“Kill me,” Cymbeline groaned. Serana chuckled, but her face grew stoic.

“The Forebears’ Hideout,” Serana pointed at the cave up ahead. “This should be where they’re keeping him. Let’s sneak in and kill them one by one, then free the moth priest.”

It was fairly simple to do so. Serana could take out most anyone by a well placed ice spike, and Cymbeline was a master at sneak attacks and close combat fighting, making them a perfect pair. They snuck deeper and deeper into the cave, killing every vampire they saw. Finally, they spotted a sort of prison containing the moth priest and a group of vampires.

Cymbeline pointed up above to where Malkus stood with a strange contraption, then tapped her chest briefly. Serana nodded, staying on the ground level and sending the first ice spike at her foe. It pierced their armor and they fell, then all the vampires began to attack. As soon as the first vampire fell, Serana resurrected it as her undead fighter, watching the look of horror on the other vampires’ faces as they fought their friend.

The battle ended quickly, and Cymbeline unlocked the prison. The moth priest, having been brainwashed, tried to attack, but was easily subdued. Unfortunately, he was also knocked out.

“Serana?” Cymbeline stepped forward, her eyes full of concern. “You were hurt.”

“I’m fine,” she said quickly, but Cymbeline ran her hand over a cut on Serana’s face. In a few moments, healing magic had been activated, and the wound sealed itself. “You learned necrotic healing.”

“Yeah. Bought it in Whiterun,” Cymbeline breathed shakily. Serana looked up at Cymbeline, who was looking away, and studied her face.

Cymbeline cared a lot. That much was evident. She seemed almost embarrassed about it. Before Serana could comment on that or even ask about it, Cymbeline continued.

“I think we should take the moth priest to the Dawnguard.”

Serana sighed. “Yeah. I think we should.”

“It might not go well,” Cymbeline noted.

“Yeah, but what was that saying?” Serana paused in thought. “Tiid bo amativ. Time flows onward. As long as they help us, I don’t care if they hate me.”

Cymbeline’s expression held so much emotion Serana could never hope to translate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I’m not dead (surprise!) and I should get pretty consistent updates again. Thanks for reading!


	9. quiet thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serana realizes she may feel something for Cymbeline as they arrive at the Dawnguard.

As they got closer to the Dawnguard, Cymbeline seemed more and more agitated. Serana was quiet, but felt a flicker of irritation. Even the concept of the Dawnguard refusing her was… infuriating.

The moth priest was still unconscious, and laying across Shadowmere as Cymbeline and Serana walked. Serana heard his heartbeat, knew he was alive… but he was their last chance.

Serana wouldn’t let it slip away.

“Serana,” Cymbeline said quietly. Her voice was hesitant, but certainly, as if she had been musing the words for a while and now finally said them. “You were right to warn me before we went into Castle Volkihar.”

Serana opened her mouth to say something, but Cymbeline continued. “But this time I’m going to warn you. The Dawnguard doesn’t like vampires. They’re not all wayward adventurers like me. Some of them have family who were…” she hesitated. “I’m not saying you’re like all vampires or that you’re different from them… people aren’t necessarily evil or good.” Cymbeline scuffed her shoes against the dirt. “I’m… the point is, they’re gonna hate you.”

“Ouch.” Serana winced. She knew it was true, but the human’s hatred for vampires was anything but refreshing.

“But they’re not bad people,” Cymbeline explained. “It’ll… be hard, but please have an open mind.”

“I’m not… terribly reckless. Not like you.” Serana took a deep breath as Cymbeline chuckled. “But you’re right in that… I don’t like being looked down upon.”

Serana had fought nearly every member of her fathers court. She had clawed her way to the top, proven her victory, proven her place by her fathers side…

But she was knocked down, she was not appreciated by him, she was threatened. She wasn’t welcomed among the vampires. She wasn’t welcomed among the Dawnguard. She was shunned by humans.

By everyone.

Everyone but Cymbeline.

For the first time Serana truly appreciated everything Cymbeline had done. She had been told to kill Serana, but disobeyed. Brought her to a festival. Took Serana to her castle, then opened her eyes to the horrors. Treated her humanely. 

Brought her home. Saved her.

Serana’s breath caught in her throat. Cymbeline had paused to look at her, as if waiting for her to continue. Sunlight caught her eyes, illuminating the clear colors. The radiance of the light blues and yellows and a million other tiny colors for that instant, before Cymbeline shielded her eyes.

Her eyes held the sun, her eyes held the stars.

“Cymbeline,” Serana began. She couldn’t say anything more. She didn’t even know how she felt about Cymbeline. She knew she cared deeply, but nothing more.

“Serana…” Cymbeline said softly, her lips curling into a sad smile, her eyes… widening? Her eyes widened as she pointed to Shadowmere. “The moth priest! He’s awake!”

Serana’s eye twitched.

“Hello?” The man sat up slowly. Serana and Cymbeline exchanged a look quickly before Serana stepped away. Perhaps a vampire was not the best thing to see after being kidnapped by them.

Serana tapped her foot nervously. Why was she feeling like this? She had experienced romance before… of a sort. Well, she had experienced her father setting her up with people, and usually she ended up disposing of them if they didn’t take her rejection well.

Was it romance?

Romance was… terrifying. Romance was the begrudging union between her parents splitting. Romance was being her fathers perfect weapon and her mother’s perfect tool. Romance was her trying to grow up like a normal kid and never having the opportunity.

Should she bother with romance if that's how it ended?

Serana kept her eyes on Cymbeline, who was approaching her with the moth priest slightly in tow.

Maybe it didn’t have to end that way.

“Dexion, this is Serana,” Cymbeline introduced. “She helped me rescue you, and now we’re on our way to the Dawnguard. When we’re there you can rest up, read the scroll she has so we can find out what the prophecy is, then stop the end of the world or whatever.” She forced a grin.

Dexion studied Serana with kind eyes. “Thank you for rescuing me,” he croaked, then cleared his throat. “I’ll happily help you.”

“Thanks,” Serana said flatly. Cymbeline gave her a thumbs up. “I guess we better get going then.”

The rest of the walk was mostly silent. Serana was just glad that Dexion had not jumped at the fact that she was a vampire. Maybe the reception wouldn’t be quite so bad at Dawnguard.

It was a foolish hope. As they neared the fort, armed men and women approached the group, but never spoke to them. Cymbeline silenced every questioning stare with her presence. Serana smirked. It was clear that Cymbeline’s presence held a lot of weight here.

“Cymbeline.” A man was outside of the fort, crossing his arms.

“Isran,” Cymbeline replied evenly, nodding.

“What is that filthy creature doing with you?” Isran growled. Serana’s skin prickled with distaste, but it was nothing compared to the hate in Isran’s eyes. His gaze shifted to Dexion. “And a Moth Priest? You’ve been gone for two weeks!”

Cymbeline gritted her teeth. Serana wanted nothing more than to grab Cymbeline’s hand, but restrained herself. “This is Serana. She’s a vampire, but she’s offered to work with us against them. The king of the vampires has made plans to do away with the sun, allowing the world to fall into eternal night. There is a prophecy regarding that in her Elder scroll-” she paused to gesture towards the scroll “-and we’ve found a Moth Priest to translate it.” She stood level with Isran, narrowing her eyes. “We can get this done with or without you, but in order to stop the world from succumbing to darkness, I would like your help.”

Isran stared at Cymbeline for a long time until he finally hissed, “In my office, now. Not you.” He spared a fleeting glance at Serana. Cymbeline smiled nervously at Serana before disappearing into the fort with Isran.

Serana exhaled, forcing herself to relax. “That wasn’t exactly a warm welcome,” she muttered. Dexion looked uncomfortable as the two of them stood there in silence. More than once, Serana caught soldiers staring at them before quickly looking away.

When Cymbeline and Isran finally emerged, Isran seemed chastised. He gave Serana a disgusted look as he said, “Fine. We’ll provide you with resources and soldiers, but we get to know the game plan. Come on, priest. We’ll get you fed.” He led Dexion inside, leaving Serana and Cymbeline just outside the fort.

Serana sighed, but Cymbeline took her hand. “That wasn’t terrible, was it?” She murmured. “No one tried to kill you.”

“Yet,” Serana reminded her. When Cymbeline burst out laughing, she wondered if perhaps what she felt towards Cymbeline was love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Years everyone!


	10. Difficulty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serana and Cymbeline chat before Dexion reads the scroll.

Unfortunately, the moth priest needed food. That meant he was eating in the dining room, and Cymbeline and Serana sat just outside of the Dawnguard. Which meant everyone was poking their heads out to look at them.

“They’re quite a warm bunch,” Serana muttered to Cymbeline. Cymbeline smiled nervously, her foot tapping incessantly. “Are you still anxious about your conversation with Isran?”

“You know when you do something spur of the moment and feel really good about it but later regret being born?” Cymbeline whispered back.

A ghost of a smile passed Serana’s lips. “If it helps, he looked like a dog with it’s tail between it’s legs after you talked. What did you even talk about?” Cymbeline’s expression turned dark, and Serana got the idea that she no longer had any regrets about the situation.

“Nothing that didn’t need to be said,” she growled, her canine side becoming apparent. “But I suppose I could’ve put it a little better.” She eyed a Dawnguard soldier lurking nearby, causing him to nearly flee in terror. Serana smirked. “If you can’t tell, I have a bit of a reputation around here,” she added dryly.

“How so?” Serana raised her brows. If it was in any part due to vampire killing, Serana wouldn’t be upset. Well, maybe a little. But the lesser species of vampire had always been violent and overreactive.

“Well… one of them’s brother is part of the royal guard, and I may or may not have assassinated the emperor,” Cymbeline explained sheepishly. “It wasn’t my fault! Okay, it was my fault. I have… a lot of enemies, you know? And sometimes they track me down when I’m on a mission with the Dawnguard and I kill all of them… just normal things.”

“Your ability to intimidate and piss off everyone around you will never not astound me,” Serana chuckled. Before she could say anything else, there was a knock on the door. 

“I have finished eating and can read the scroll now,” Dexion said, cracking the door open. Cymbeline stood, nodding at Serana before walking inside. Serana followed.

Serana handed over the scroll, albeit hesitantly. She watched with interest as Dexion opened it, his eyes rolling back. “I see a vision before me, an image of a great bow. I know this weapon! It is Auriel’s Bow! Now a voice whispers, saying, “Among the night’s children, a dread lord will rise”. In an age of strife, when dragons return to the realm of men, darkness will mingle with light and the night and day will be as one.”

Serana glanced at Cymbeline, who had froze. Her eyes were widened with panic, her breathing quick. It had to have been the mention of dragons returning to the realm of men - what more did Cymbeline know about it? She mentioned someone had been bringing them back, but who? And why did she look so freaked out.

Serana hesitated, but grabbed Cymbeline’s hand. This spooked her out of her trance, and she gave Serana a nervous grin.

“So we need two more scrolls,” Isran spoke loudly. Serana jerked her head up, and saw that Isran was glaring pointedly at the two of them. “I’m assuming you two don’t know where to find them?”

“I might,” Cymbeline offered, shaking herself. “Or, rather, I know someone who might.” Serana said nothing, but she knew for a fact that her mother either knew where one was or had one.

“Right.” Isran glared, then sighed. “I’ll send some people to look in to it. Let me know if there’s something else we can do to stop this vampire uprising.” He looked pointedly at Serana. “Now get out.”

“Gladly,” Cymbeline growled, tightening her grip on Serana’s hand and pulling her away. It wasn’t until they reached Shadowmere that she slowed her quick pace and dropped Serana’s hand. “Sorry. Isran’s just getting on my nerves.”

“Are you okay?” Serana asked, concerned. Cymbeline seemed even more on edge than before.

“Yes. No. It’s… the dragons returning,” Cymbeline sighed. “I’m… I’m the only one who can stop them, and maybe if I had instead of getting distracted with the Dark Brotherhood and the Dawnguard the prophecy would never come to pass and dragons would be gone-”

“Hey.” Serana put a hand on Cymbeline’s shoulder. “Everyone will always have roles for you to fill and expectations for you to meet. All you can do is follow…” she swallowed back her original words, suddenly feeling nervous. “...what feels right. Trust me.”

Cymbeline’s smile was genuine this time, and Serana’s heart skipped a beat. “That… helps. Thank you.”

“No problem,” Serana muttered, her face flushing. She needed to get over her feelings for Cymbeline, and fast. 

Cymbeline just made that very difficult.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y’all are doing well! Everything is hectic but I’ll continue updating either on Wednesdays or Thursday’s. Thank you for reading!


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